The Next Great Adventure
by lostinanotherworld24
Summary: "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." -JK Rowling.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: some housekeeping things- first, I changed my username. I used to be heartsdesire88, and am now lostinanotherworld24. second, I got this idea from an outsiders fanfic, but obviously the content is original. I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to leave a review! thanks!

Sonny is drenched when he steps into the bar, rain falling steadily outside. He shakes his head to get rid of water droplets clinging to his hair, and glances around. It's a nice establishment, with a gleaming hardwood bar and wood floors, soft jazz music playing overhead. Additionally, it is devoid of other customers, except one. Everything is forgotten when he sees that oh-so-familiar blonde head of curls sitting at the bar, sipping from a glass.

"Clay!" He calls, grateful the bar is empty. Clay turns around and catches sight of him, slides off his barstool to meet him halfway. They embrace, and a rush of that familiar scent hits Sonny like a freight train. He basks in that scent, and that embrace, simply holding his brother for what feels like forever. If anyone witnessed this, they might laugh or poke fun, but Sonny could give less of a fuck. It's been such a long time.

Clay jerks his head back towards the bar, and gestures for Sonny to take the seat beside his. Sonny does, a glass of whiskey appearing in front of him a moment later. It burns like fire going down his throat, but in a way that distracts from the stinging of Sonny's eyes. He will not cry like a _girl_, and the fact that that's even a credible threat is galling to Sonny. Has he really gotten that soft?

"It's good to see you," Clay shatters the silence a moment later, glancing at Sonny with a wide smile.

"It's good to see you too. Been a while."

"Yeah, I know." Another moment of silence passes while they both absorb the fact of just how long it's been.

"So what've you been up to?" Clay wonders, a moment later.

"Me and Davis finally fessed up about our relationship, and she ended up getting transferred. Once we were no longer workin' together, that gave me clearance to finally pop the question, and uh, tie the knot," he holds up his left hand, proudly displaying the shiny gold band that rests on his third finger.

"Congratulations man. Wow, the great Sonny Quinn finally settles down. Didn't think I'd ever see the day," Clay teases.

"Neither did I, truth be told," Sonny admits, taking another swig of his whiskey. "Wish you coulda been there."

"Me too, brother. Hey, how're the guys?"

"They're good. Jason's retired, and is working some private security job. Ray's now Bravo One, and we have a couple of new guys. Blackburn retired when Jason did, but still finds time for us every once in a while. It's good."

Clay nods, eyes going shiny with tears.

"Sounds good."

Sonny nods too, and glances away, running a hand over his beard. The more time has passed, the easier it's been to forget that there's a sixth person that should be there. Bit by bit, they've accepted Clay's absence, and it so rarely trips any of them up anymore. Here, in the now, and faced with Clay Sonny suddenly feels that gaping wound re-open again. Somehow, it feels as though four years has been the longest and shortest years of his life.

"How've you been?" Sonny wonders, studying the other man. Clay looks good, healthy and happy. There are no shadows around his eyes to indicate pain, no wrinkles around his mouth from frowning in concentration. Sonny realizes that this is the Clay before Brian, before Adam, before Swanny. This is a Clay unfettered by pain or worry, heartache or sorrow. A lump forms in Sonny's throat at the thought.

"I've been good man. It's not too bad here," Clay glances around.

"Spend all your time drinking, shit I wouldn't think that's too bad either," Sonny razzes.

"I do other stuff too. Sometimes I spend time with you guys, see how y'all are doing," Clay reveals. "Wanted to make sure you all were okay after...well, after everything."

Sonny nods, and affixes his glance on the glass in his hands.

"You know, what happened wasn't your fault. It was just stupid bad luck, is all."

"I was supposed to look after you," Sonny whispers. "It was my job to make sure you came home safe."

"You did bring me home," Clay reminds him. "You brought me as far as you could, and then you carried me home."

"You weren't supposed to come home in a box!" Sonny snaps.

A thick silence settles between them, heavy with the weight of grief. The memories rush back, it's like it happened yesterday- _the taste of mud, the feel of rain sliding down his shoulders. A gunshot ringing out in the still silence, and Clay's eyes, wide with surprise. The sound of him choking and coughing on his own blood, before a long exhale escaped him, and he breathed his last. The oppressive silence that followed, the way the world stilled for one long, horrible moment. _

"That's the risk we take, you know that," Clay reminds him. "It was my time."

_A gleaming wooden casket, friends and family milling around. Everyone saying how sad it is, isn't it such a shame. He was so young. The sound of 21 guns, and TAPS being played. Lifting the casket, heavy with the weight of their grief. A rose on the casket, and then black, black dirt. _

"You were supposed to lead your own team, be better than any of us."

"Hey, everything's the way it was meant to be. It's okay Sonny."

An awful realization dawns on him then, one that he should have caught much earlier, but didn't.

"Clay. You're dead. How am I seeing you?"

"You got shot in Kandahar," Clay reveals. "They weren't sure you were gonna make it. But the doctors did a good job, and you're gonna be just fine."

Sonny suddenly wants to scream, because this hasn't been nearly long enough. He doesn't want to leave Clay, not so soon after finding him again.

"Sonny, it'll be okay," Clay reassures, embracing him tightly again. They're standing now, and Clay places both his hands on Sonny's shoulders. Wearing that familiar smile, the one Sonny's seen thousands of times, he shoves Sonny.

And Sonny falls through the floor.

_Falling..._

_Falling... _

_Down..._

_And _

_Down... _

xxxx

The first thing he sees is the white ceiling of the hospital room.

The first thing he does is cry.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: An unexpected bonus chapter, because why not. I hope you all enjoy, and leave me a review and let me know what you think! Shoutout to burnmedown for encouraging this, and for talking all things SEAL Team for hours!

PS- the picture Sonny's holding is a real picture that AJ and Max took!

Fear reaches into her chest and feasts on her heart, filling her mind with images of Sonny's possible funeral. Having to pick out a casket, a tombstone. She sits in the hospital waiting room and prays for a miracle, prays that Sonny won't meet the same fate as Clay.

That fear is swallowed by relief when the doctors say everything is going to be okay, Sonny didn't suffer permanent damage. The crying fit upon awakening is probably just a release of the emotion that comes with dancing on the edge of death, but not quite crossing the finish line. Sonny seems okay in every sense, if not a little quieter than before, and she believes that things will return to normal quite naturally, if only Sonny would say what's on his mind.

Xxxx

Lisa stands at the arch that divides the living room from the dining room, heart in her throat. Sonny is at their mantle, seemingly unaware of her presence, clutching a picture frame in his hands. She doesn't have to sneak a peek to know what picture it contains- it's one of his favorites, a selfie taken when Clay and he had shown up at the cages wearing the same shirt. Coincidentally, it also happens to be one of the last pictures they took before Clay passed away.

It's been weeks since the shooting, and Sonny hasn't been right since. Her normally-boisterous other half has been turned in, reserved, as though something's heavy on his mind. Careful prodding had revealed he had little memory of the shooting itself, and follow-up doctors' appointments confirmed he was healing well physically. She's at a loss for what's wrong or how to get him to open up, and not for the first time, wishes Clay were here. He'd always been able to get Sonny to talk about whatever was bothering him.

Silently, she crosses the room, allows her arms to encapsulate the broad strength of him. He sighs, and raises a hand to grasp her arm.

"Honey, what's wrong?" She inquires softly.

"I miss him, Lisa," he reveals, just as quietly. She darts a glance over his shoulder at the picture, and a stabbing pain echoed through her at the sight of that familiar smirk.

"I know. I miss him too," she comforts.

"I want to go to his grave. I need to go see him."

This is the most vulnerable he's been with her in weeks, and she's helpless to do anything but grant his request.

Xxxx

Beams of shining light sweep across the rain-dampened grass, alighting their way through the silent cemetery. Lisa sneaks a glance at her husband as they walk, studying his features. He wears a familiar look of pain and yet determination, the resolve that he will finish the task no matter what the cost. Not for the first time, she's overcome with quiet awe at how lucky she is to call him hers.

Her flashlight finds the tombstone first. Heedless of the wetness beneath them, they sink down to their knees, reading the words writ large.

"_Who kept the faith, _

_And fought the fight_

_The glory theirs, _

_The duty ours." -Wallace Bruce _

_Clay Spenser - Bravo 6 _

_1988-2018 _

"I'm sorry I ain't been real talkative lately," Sonny begins. "I know, I haven't been spilling my guts much since everything happened. It's just, I experienced something when I was shot, and I guess I've just been trying to wrap my mind around it."

He pauses then, eyes affixed on Clay's gravestone. Uncharacteristically his hands were fidgeting with themselves, one thumb sliding against another like a match trying to strike.

"I saw him, Lisa. I saw Clay. And this weren't memories, or anything else. I...I _talked _with him. And I can't explain it, can't reason it out, can't see how it's possible. He was right there, wearing that fuckin' stupid grin same as always…," here his voice trails off, seemingly lost in his memories.

"I thought I could do it. I thought I could figure out a way to live without him, ya know? Ain't the first brother I've seen go, probably won't be the last. But Jesus, do I ever... _miss_ him. And I ain't know how to miss people."

She absorbs these words, reaches out for one of his hands. Gently, she cradles his hand between hers, rubs her thumbs gently against his skin. That simple touch wrecks him, and he breaks down sobbing. Lisa tugs Sonny in, allows him to collapse and weep into her lap. Some people might think it strange, her hardass husband falling to pieces, but she knows a secret most others don't: the team, especially Clay, has always been his soft spot. The quickest way to fell him is through his brothers, and whatever he experienced in the space between life and death has hit him directly where it hurts.

"Losing him once was bad enough," Sonny informs her once the tears have subsided. "Losing him twice...there was a second, once he told me I was going to be fine, that I wanted to die just to be with him."

"I know it hurts, and I wish I could take this pain away from you. I wish I could make it better. But you know the way to honor him is through living, through picking up the watch he ended. You know he wanted what was best for you, and the best way to heal is through moving on. His time here was finished, but yours isn't. Baby, we gotta keep being strong, and we gotta keep pushing on."

He pushes himself to sitting, and swipes away the remaining tears rolling down his cheeks. Silence falls over them for a moment, before Lisa shoves herself to her feet, helps her partner to stand. He contemplates the grave a moment more, before reaching out one hand and brushing the top of it.

"Rest now, little buddy, ya hear? We got the watch from here."

Together, they leave the graveyard and go home. And if one star above their house twinkles extra-brightly, well that's the star's secret to keep.


End file.
